


Pots & Pans

by NekoAisu



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha Yuri Plisetsky, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anxiety, Aprons, Beta Katsuki Yuuri, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Chores, Cooking Lessons, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Future Fic, House Cleaning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-11 05:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11708181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoAisu/pseuds/NekoAisu
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky was not part of the Katsuki-Nikiforov household by blood, or legal action. He honestly couldn't even remember what prompted the visit, but soon enough he was drying cups and laughing at Viktor's obvious discomfort as Yuuri stared him down in complete disbelief."You put my nonstick pans in the dishwasher."





	Pots & Pans

**Author's Note:**

> My piece for the Yuri!!! on Ice Shit-Bang Event in partnership with SoulzTheYoshi. I'd definitely recommend you check out her wonderful blog at soulztheyoshi.tumblr.com !! She was a tremendous help with this story as an editor and beta reader (not to mention how phenomenal of a person she is) and also made some wonderful art for the fic as a part of the event!!
> 
> Rated G as of right now. There is some very mild cussing courtesy of Yuri. If you'd prefer I bump the rating up to T just to be safe, please let me know! It's all just a pile of soft pseudo-family shenanigans, other than that.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading!! ^^ <3

There were a lot of things that Yuri Plisetsky had learned over the years that Viktor never seemed to get. Viktor had sworn to Yuuri the day he moved into Viktor’s Saint Petersburg apartment that he would make sure to do the chores. Yuuri had offered to help him out, dividing the work between them as dual residents now. Soon enough, small problems arose. Most were small details, dishes put away in the wrong part of the cabinet would get fixed when noted to be out of place by Yuuri, socks littering the ground resulting in a call of  _ “Viktor, you missed the laundry basket again.” _ Others were larger issues. The one of seemingly greatest importance was that Viktor constantly put the nonstick pans in the dishwasher. The scolding that the action guaranteed was something Viktor always seemed to wish he could avoid, but he kept loading the pans in, anyways. 

The first time Viktor put the pots in the dishwasher around Yuuri, it had been right after they moved in together in Saint Petersburg. Viktor was used to just heating up frozen meals, or subsisting off of the easiest thing he could get his hands on to make. The coffee table and kitchen counters were stained with evidence of accidental disasters in the form of sloppily cleaned up spills. Yuuri, on the other hand, was a clean freak. He didn’t cut corners, or leave dishes in the sink unwashed. His parents were the sort to place emphasis on never cutting corners, _especially_ when it came to making and serving food. Yuuri was raised to be efficient in a kitchen, to be perfectly capable of caring for himself, or a potential spouse if need be. The idea of self sufficiency and having confidence in his own ability led to easily diffused situations when Viktor’s distress led to accidental pheromone discharge. Yuri respected that, especially when it led to Viktor getting schooled on the proper way to do the dishes for the fifth time in two weeks. 

Yuri continued drying cups, the glassware meticulously scrubbed until there was no evidence it had been used in the first place and set  to the side of the sink  for him to wipe down and put away in the cabinets. Yuuri stared Viktor down with no less disappointment from his place in front of the stove . Yuri bit back a laugh when Yuuri let out a tired sigh, eyes softening ever so slightly even as he continued drying one of the knives he most commonly used when dealing with large slabs of meat- a cleaver he maintained almost obsessively - and  stated  with  no small amount of exasperation , "You put my nonstick pans in the dishwasher again."

Viktor swallowed, having just enough decency to give a sheepish smile and  apologize, although Yuuri already knew he would probably do it again . Yuuri removed the pans from the washer rack and placed them in the sink before beginning to fill them with hot water. "We're buying cast iron ones after this. At least those-" he grabbed the sponge and began gently wiping a sauté pan down "-would be too heavy for you to even attempt to put  in here , Viktor. You’d sooner break the rack than be able to safely load those types in  _ any  _ dishwasher.” He passed a (the now) clean ed pan to Viktor along with a dish towel. “Dry this off, please.”

The kitchen was silent for all of a minute afterward before Viktor asked, "Why  _ can't _  we just load them in there?"

Yuuri didn't sigh, or even so much as send Viktor an exasperated look. It had been established over the years that the kitchen was Yuuri's safe haven,  statuses and secondary genders be damned . Viktor had presented as an Alpha late in his life, nearly twenty before his first rut hit. It had stopped him from competing in Worlds that year. Yuuri was the opposite. He had known from the time he was fourteen that he was a Beta. He didn’t have the spiced scent that all Alphas seemed to carry around with them, nor was he sweet smelling enough to be an Omega. In Russia, it was customary for the Alpha to cook and clean for the Omega, but Yuuri and Viktor were already an unorthodox pair as it was and no amount of societal expectations would change their dynamic. Viktor wouldn't worry about it much, just learning things he was interested in as time went on. What was frustrating to Yuuri , however, was how Viktor had managed to survive so long on his own without any visible skill in a kitchen. The week before last, he had left a pot of water boiling long enough that it had evaporated completely and the pot itself began smoking. 

"You don't want the coatings to get worn down. Nonstick pans are anodized and putting that in a dishwasher is bad for them, Viktor. Come here and help me put these away, please, dear."

Yuri continued patting some crystal glasses dry, jumping slightly at the double chime his phone gave. He set down the soft dishtowel and checked his notifications.

**Otabek** **୧** **ʕ•̀ᴥ•́ʔ** **୨** said at 10:34 a.m.

_ Yura, good morning _

_ sleep well? _

He smiled softly. Yuuri glanced over just in time to catch the soft expression before it became overtaken by a soft flush of pink. He fixed his gaze back to where he had been filling a pot with water to avoid being yelled at in a fit of teenage embarrassment. "Yuri, do you want to take a break for a bit and answer that text? We're almost done here. I'll call you back into the kitchen when it's time to start cooking the pork belly. " 

Yuri nodded, thumbs already flying across the screen with some level of haste to reply. He wandered over to the couch and flopped down, scratching at the edge of his suppressant patch. He had presented a few months back as an Alpha and his hormones were still out of whack. Viktor had taken him to a doctor to get the medicated patches shortly afterward. Otabek had subsequently commented on how brightly colored they were, electric blue and green circles stuck behind his ear.

**Yura (=** **ↀ** **ω** **ↀ** **=)** **✧** said at 10:35 a.m.

_ i did! _

_ are you still coming over for dinner? katsudon is teaching me how to make new stuff today  _ _ （ _ _ ๑ _ _ ✧∀✧ _ _ ๑ _ _ ） _

_ my patches are being a pain, tho _

**Otabek** **୧** **ʕ•̀ᴥ•́ʔ** **୨** said at 10:38 a.m.

_ At five, right?  _

_ And that sucks, Yura. I hope they aren't bothering you too much. _

**Yura (=** **ↀ** **ω** **ↀ** **=)** **✧** said at 10:38 a.m.

_ yep!! _

_ and they're annoying, but not as mch as viktor _

_ *much _

**Otabek** **୧** **ʕ•̀ᴥ•́ʔ** **୨** said at 10:39 a.m.

_ See you then, Yura. Should I bring a housewarming gift for Yuuri and Viktor? _

_ That's good to hear. _

**Yura (=** **ↀ** **ω** **ↀ** **=)** **✧** said at 10:40 a.m.

_ nope _

_ just come as you are _

_ lord knows katsudon and that old geezer need anything else _

_ viktor keeps buying stupid things _

**Otabek** **୧** **ʕ•̀ᴥ•́ʔ** **୨** said at 10:40 a.m.

_ Okay. Thank you, Yura. _

"Yuri, we're ready whenever you are. Don't forget to wash your hands!" Yuri pocketed his phone again at the call, only to take it back out with the chime of one more notification. 

**Otabek** **୧** **ʕ•̀ᴥ•́ʔ** **୨** said at 10:42 a.m.

_ Good luck, Yura. I can't wait to taste the food you make.  _

Yuri hurried into the kitchen without typing out a reply and if he washed his hands with water that made them redder than his face, Viktor didn't deem it necessary to comment. Yuuri simply passed him a clean black apron and allowed him a moment to tie his hair back. Viktor pushed himself up onto the counter next to Yuuri with a soft exhale and swung his feet slightly. It had been deemed a problem towards the beginning of their initial cohabitation, but now it was almost anticipated. Yuuri had grown used to it and currently stood chopping up scallions. Yuri let the tension in his shoulders dissipate. 

Yuuri issued instructions without delay, passing ingredients to Yuri with steady hands as he spoke, "Can you halve these shallots for me, Yurio? We've got to get this in the oven, soon. Chashu pork cooks for a long time on low heat, but if we're trying to get this all ready in time to allow for you to get ready for dinner with Otabek-"

"Otabek is coming over?" Viktor asked, legs pausing their small  sweeping motions for all of a second in surprise. 

"-then we have to do so quickly. Yes, Viktor, Otabek is coming over for dinner. Yuri invited him over to eat with us at five. Are you ready to write things down?" Yuuri swept the small rounds of onion into a plastic bowl and began peeling cloves of garlic without so much as a glance up from where he was working. 

Viktor, Yuuri learned, had a hard time remembering verbal instructions. Yuuri was terrible at writing things down cohesively, in turn. They came to a compromise where Yuuri would narrate to Viktor what ingredients he was adding and how much of each was going into the recipe, so that both could benefit in some way from the act of Viktor watching from atop the counters. "Yes, my love. Ready when you are."

"For ingredients so far, write down three shallots, eight to twelve scallions, and six cloves of garlic. Next things I'm going to add are the mirin and soy sauce. Can you pass the bottles over to me, please, Yuri?" The blonde did as asked before also handing Yuuri a whisk.

"For the sugar."

"Thank you!" The kitchen went quiet for a little, Yuuri measuring out exactly how much of each thing he would need before passing butcher's twine and some scissors to Yuri. "Can you roll up the pork belly with the skin facing out and tie it up, for me, please?"

Viktor asked if they were eating actual stomach and Yuuri laughed after joking with him that they were actually going to eat intestines instead once Viktor's face scrunched up in a show of disgust. Yuri washed his hands again. "Need me to turn the burner on?"

"Sounds good," Yuuri replied, shooing Viktor to the side playfully to get him farther away from where the stove was. "Can you slice up the ginger real quick and add that as well? I have to use the restroom." At Yuri's nod, Yuuri washed his hands and untied his apron before hurrying down the hall with a grin. "I leave it to you, Master Chef Yurio!"

Viktor pestered Yuri while waiting for Yuuri to come back. He fiddled with their wedding rings and kicked his legs a little higher. "Hey, Yurio?"

"What is it?" Yuri wasn’t the most comfortable with Viktor being the initiator of a one-on-one talk. He tended to poke his nose too far into Yuri’s business and it drove the boy absolutely  _ insane  _ half the time. The other half, he was just thoroughly embarrassed, which isn’t much better.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Yuri had thought he had already had enough of reddish cheeks and wide eyed looks to last him the whole week, but it seemed Viktor's question wanted him to suffer for a little longer. He blushed so hard it felt as if his cheeks were steaming as he stared owlishly at Viktor. His surroundings seemed to freeze for a little while before accelerating once again. He nearly spat out a sentence in his haste to refute the claim. "What are you talking about, damn hag?!" He checked the oven's temperature and then his hair, redoing the bun with ease after it had come loose with how hard he had shaken his head in response. 

Viktor simply shrugged. "I wouldn't have noticed, unless Yuuri brought it up with me beforehand. Now it seems obvious to me and you  _ know  _ how notoriously oblivious I tend to be, Yuri. Either way, you have my support. You treat each other well."

Yuri felt the tension from earlier return with a vengeance. "I like him. That's all."

"You can take it at whatever pace you want. I won't butt into your relations any more than usual, but I do want you to know that Yuuri and I are here for you if you ever need anything. Not everyone is as lucky as I have been to make so many stupid decisions and still end up with the love of their life. I'm sure Otabek wouldn't mind a few stupid decisions of your own, though." Viktor winked and Yuri  beamed a plastic measuring spoon at his obnoxiously big forehead before stomping out of the kitchen. 

"Just shut up already, damn it! Katsudon is troublesome enough about it!"

Yuuri rounded the corner and walked into the kitchen, noticing the suspicious lack of blonde, angsty teenager. "Did I miss something important?" 

"Nothing at all,” Viktor replied, face impassive.

"You tried to talk to him about it, then."

Viktor smiled sheepishly, having at least enough decency to look abashed. "Maybe?"

Yuuri sighed and finished the preparations, pouring the  liquid ingredients  into the pot before adding the chopped up aromatics and vegetables. He made sure Viktor was checking off each ingredient as it was added to the mix of swirling sauce.

_ Soy sauce, mirin, sake, halved shallots, green onion, ginger, some sugar and cracked pepper. Next is the meat and a lid. _

"Viktor, set the timer to an hour and a half. Makkachin needs to go on a walk and I’m sure Yurio needs some time outside the house. I'll be  back  by the time that goes off." He pressed a soft kiss to the man's cheek and strode out of the kitchen, slippers exchanged for his sneakers at the door and apron exchanged for a light sweater. "Yuri? I'm leaving for a little walk with Makkachin. Do you want to come with me?" He left off how staying behind would mean being left with Viktor in favor of mentioning a new cafe by their go-to grocer that specializes in cat themed confections. "We can get tiger doughnuts on the way back home, too."

Yuri shuffled down the hallway with loose hair and one of Otabek's hoodies covering his shirt from earlier. "Is your nosy-ass husband coming along?"

"Viktor is staying behind to watch the meat and make sure nothing burns down while we’re out. Is that okay?"

The blonde nodded and Yuuri pushed up his glasses while simultaneously hooking the leash onto a rather excitable Makkachin's collar. "Let's get going, then. 

* * *

Of all things to learn about Yuuri since he married Viktor, how he dealt with anxiety was not something Yuri had thought he needed to know. "It sometimes gets difficult to breathe, or talk around certain people. The first time I met Viktor in person-" Yuri opened his mouth to interject that the first time had been the farthest thing from child (age) appropriate and that he didn't want to hear about Yuuri's pole dancing experiences only to get briskly shushed "- _ aside _  from that drunken fiasco, made me so nervous I honestly felt like I was going to pass out. If Viktor had asked me if I loved him so suddenly, I probably would have had a panic attack. I can't say he did a good job this time around, but he's trying his best to gain more tact. I just wish he had actually listened to me." 

Makkachin pulled them in the direction of the coast, running forward before doubling back and barking at the duo. "So you're saying that Viktor being (un)necessarily blunt about  _ my own damn business _  is him trying his best?"

"Yep." 

"Oh."

"He's frustrating at times, but I'm happy that I ever got to meet him, much less (let alone)  _ marry  _ him. I hope that you and Otabek, regardless of romantic inclinations, enjoy each other's company," Yuuri confided. "I'll talk to him when we get back about keeping it to himself and not bothering you.  _ Especially _ not during dinner." He sent Yuri a lopsided smile before nearly tripping on an uneven sections of the sidewalk as Makkachin bolted forward toward a congregation of gulls. Yuri cracked up as they walked down the street. 

They continued walking in companionable silence past (after)  that, sun high up above and brightly shining down on them even with the cooler end-of-summer weather in full swing. The relief brought on by the shade the cafe provided was more than welcome as Yuri chugged down his whole bottle of water. He took out his phone to snap a photo of a small chocolate cake with a sleeping marzipan bear on top. 

**Yura (=** **ↀ** **ω** **ↀ** **=)** **✧**  said at 12:37 p.m.

_ reminded me of you!! _

_ [picture attached] _

**Otabek** **୧** **ʕ•̀ᴥ•́ʔ** **୨** said at 12:38 p.m.

_ Looks good. Are you buying sweets, Yura? _

**Yura (=** **ↀ** **ω** **ↀ** **=)** **✧**  said at 12:38 p.m.

_ out with katsudon rn _

_ getting doughnuts _

_ want some? _

**Otabek** **୧** **ʕ•̀ᴥ•́ʔ** **୨** said at 12:39 p.m.

_ I'd love one. _

Yuri silently wondered why it felt so difficult to reply with anything other than  _ I love you.  _ He settled for just buying doughnuts instead. 

 

**Yura (=** **ↀ** **ω** **ↀ** **=)** **✧**  said at 12:42

_ bought you a surprise doughnut _

_ now you can't skip out on me _

**Otabek** **୧** **ʕ•̀ᴥ•́ʔ** **୨** said at 12:42 p.m.

_ Wouldn't dream of it. _

* * *

Yuri fiddled with his hair before pulling the elastics out again. Nothing looken even remotely good enough and he was becoming more and more frustrated with every passing second. He remembered what Yuuri told him to use when panicking. It was a basic set of breathing exercises, groups of inhales and exhales he could count with until his mind settled back down. He breathed slowly, counting beats in and out before standing up from where he sat cross legged. He stretched and brushed his hair again. Otabek had seen him gross and sweaty after practices and sick to the point where it was only the benevolence of some god, or Viktor's surprising skills as a nurse that he didn't end up in the hospital with IV lines in his arms to go with his rattling cough.  _ If he can deal with my terrible ideas and crappy decisions, he can deal with me now.  _

With that, Yuri opened his door just in time to hear a staccato rapping at the apartment’s front door. He hurried to open it and smiled brightly. "Otabek! You made it!"

"I can't skip out on your food and doughnuts, now can I?"

"I wouldn't dream of it."

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave me feedback (and kudos if you enjoyed it), so I can try my best to improve!! 
> 
> Thank you so much!!
> 
> Come and tumble with me @kiriami-sama.tumblr.com, or yell on twitter @FlamingAceKiri  
> Visit my wonderful editor and partner in crime @soulztheyoshi.tumblr.com for a good time and quality memes


End file.
